One-Shot: Day I Left New York City
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: This is a one-shot about Shawn, Cory and Topanga at little Riley's birth, based on information given during GMW Xmas episode.


**One-Shot: Day I Left New York City**

Central Park was beautiful in the early evening. That precious hour when the sun gave its last hurrah in a blaze of pink glory was the perfect backdrop for many photographs.

It was in this time and place that 21-year old Shawn Hunter now found himself, taking discreet shots of passerby. He had really become interested in photography at Pennbrook University, finding it to be the one thing he seemed pretty good at.

As he finished examining a just-captured still shot in his viewfinder, Shawn felt his cell phone ring. Popping it open, he saw Eric Matthews' number flash on the screen. He picked up.

"Eric?"

"Shawn. Where are you?"

"Near the North entrance of Central Park. Why?"

"I just got a call from Cory. Topanga's gone into labor."

Silence. Shawn damn near dropped his phone. Topanga, the wife of his best friend Cory and his own good friend, was having a baby. His best friends were having a baby….

"Shawn, are you still there?!" Eric sounded almost panicked.

"Yeah, yeah, Eric."

"Meet me at the North entrance in 5 minutes, ok?" Shawn heard Eric yelling at somebody before the call went dead.

Exactly 5 minutes later, Shawn saw a cab pull up by the North entrance gate. Eric barely had time to open the door and yell, "Get in!" before Shawn was diving along with his camera gear into the backseat. Eric slammed the door behind them and the cab took off.

"Where are the others?" Shawn asked.

"Mom and Dad are already driving up from Philly; Morgan and Josh in tow. Mr. Feeny said he'd try to get away from Pennbrook if he could. Jack… haven't heard from him. Or Rachel."

The cab made a sharp hairpin turn as it ran through a yellow, throwing Shawn into the door.

"Get a seatbelt on, son! If you die on us now, Cory'll kill you. You know that, right?"

Shawn merely nodded as he buckled himself in and stowed his gear underneath the seat.

It wasn't long – maybe 15 minutes - before the cab reached the New York Presbyterian Lower Manhattan Hospital, only a few blocks from the World Trade Center…. or what was left of it, anyway. Shawn still could not believe that almost three months had passed since that terrifying September day, which he had spent in his flat on the Lower East Side, frantically calling Cory, Topanga, the Matthews family, even Angela in Europe – making sure they were OK. Cory had been in graduate school classes at NYU that morning, so Shawn was unable to reach him. But, he had gotten through to Topanga at their home. At 6 months pregnant and her eyes glued to the TV set, she had been hysterical and frantic for Cory's safety; Shawn had spent hours on the phone with her, calming her down. "It's not good for the baby," he kept telling her. "It's not good for the baby." Shawn didn't know much about pregnant women, but he figured that great emotional stress could not be beneficial to any fetus.

These thoughts flew from Shawn's mind as he sensed Eric literally pushing him out of the cab; the two young men ran through the sliding glass doors. Eric practically threw himself on the reception desk, gasping out the names of his brother and sister-in-law. The secretary pointed them in the right direction, and off they went again. It was difficult not to see the tenseness in Eric's body as they jogged along, and Shawn could not help but feel both a little disturbed and amused.

"I never took you to be the high-strung type, Eric," he observed, in his best attempt at light humor. Eric just shook his head, not once breaking stride.

"I'm just worried about Cory. And Pangers, too," employing the affectionate nickname he had given his brother's future wife when they were younger. "You know, Josh's birth was so traumatic, I just hope…." He couldn't finish. Shawn nodded. In truth, these same thoughts had lurked in his mind for some time, ever since his best friends had announced they were expecting. Sometimes, the forbidden dwelling on the possible had entered his subconscious: thoughts like, _What if something happens to Topanga? And the baby?_ Or, _If either one of them dies, Cory will surely die, too. And that means so will I._ Shawn Hunter had never been the sentimental type, but damn it if he didn't love Cory and Topanga dearly – like siblings. Hell, he loved the whole Matthews family; they had practically adopted him in all but name and loved him as a son after his father died. If they had to suffer even a fraction of what he already had in his young life, he didn't know what he would do.

Eric and Shawn now finally emerged in a waiting room of the maternity ward. Like a laser pointer, Shawn's eyes found his best friend, standing by a stretcher that surely housed Topanga. They looked like they were about to be wheeled into the operating room at any moment. Shawn sprinted to Cory's side, Eric hot on his heels.

"Cor!" The best friends embraced, and Shawn was terrified to discover that Cory was crying. He pulled away and chanced a look at Topanga. "She's not-?"

"She's fine, son, she's just in a lot of pain," one of the doctors offered up. Shawn stood over Topanga. Her face was very red; and she was breathing as though she were coming up for air after being underwater. Every now and then, a scream would be wrenched from her. Her eyes soon locked onto Shawn's.

"Shawn…." she croaked out his name. Shawn's eyes filled with tears, even as he gave her a watery smile. He hated to see her in pain almost as much as Cory did.

"Hey, Topanga. No energy wasted on me, all right? Focus on what you need to do for yourself and that baby. I can't go back there, but Cory will be with you." He took her hand and kissed it.

Topanga smiled tenderly at him. Then, in a flash she was sending a glare at her husband. "Cory, why weren't you saying sweet things like that to me _three hours ago_?!" Cory cast a deer-in-headlights look in Shawn and Eric's direction. Not knowing Topanga was saying such moody things due to being in labor, Shawn gave a helpless shrug, but Eric wasn't even paying attention. He was on the phone, presumably with the rest of his family.

"OK, let's move her back!" a doctor called, and Topanga began to be wheeled away.

"Eric and I will stay here and wait for the others," Shawn promised. Then, he grabbed an obviously very-distressed Cory's shoulder. "Cory! …. They're gonna be OK." Cory nodded before running after the stretcher that carried his family.

Eric hung up the phone. He looked pale and tired. Both he and Shawn collapsed into chairs, exhausted from their helter-skelter journey out of Central Park.

"Dad and the others are about 35, 40 minutes out. Haven't heard anything new from Feeny. I doubt he's coming."

Shawn nodded almost imperceptibly. Over that ensuing time frame, he busied himself by checking through the pictures he had taken in the park; it was a miracle he hadn't left all his gear in the cab. Occasionally, he would glance at a magazine. Eric kept his eyes glued to the TV set, CNN flashing between Christmas infomercials and press conferences from President George W. Bush. Neither young man let their thoughts stray anywhere near Cory or Topanga; it was their way of keeping calm.

* * *

About 45 minutes after Cory and Topanga had left, the waiting room doors opened. Alan Matthews came practically sprinting in, followed by his wife. She was carrying toddler Josh and nudging along a crying Morgan. Shawn glanced at the digital clock mounted on the wall. 6:05 PM; December 7th, 2001. Eric rose to meet his father.

"No use barging in, Dad; they've been back there almost an hour…"

"I need to see my son!" Alan shot back, concern almost radiating off his body in waves. Eric, disturbed yet also annoyed at his father's tone, only slightly backed away.

"Aren't we your sons, too?" the oldest Matthews boy responded dryly, gesturing at Shawn. Shawn felt touched that Eric had referred to him in that way. This comment seemed to calm Alan down, and also make him aware of Shawn's presence for the first time.

"Shawn!" he breathed and walked around to embrace the lad.

"Hey, Mr. Matthews," Shawn returned, hugging him before moving on to show similar affection to the others: a hug for Mrs. Matthews, a ruffle of the hair for Morgan, a kiss on the forehead for young Josh. Alan surveyed his family proudly, even if the worry for his second-born had not yet fully receded.

"Well, I guess now we wait."

His wife, Amy, nodded with a small smile. "And now we wait." Everyone took silent positions in chairs.

* * *

Minutes passed like hours. Hours passed like days. By a few minutes to midnight, everyone but Shawn and Alan had fallen asleep where they sat. A doctor then came out to the small group, who were the only ones left in the waiting room.

"Topanga is responding well to the treatment, but she has a bit to go before she can even start pushing," she explained. "It's closing time right now. We keep the emergency entrances of the ward open for night-owl admittance, but the rest of the hospital and waiting rooms will be locked. You can either leave now and come back in the morning, or we can lock you in here for the night. Either way, nothing new will likely happen until tomorrow."

Alan looked at his wife, who was curled up in one chair with Morgan and Josh. Eric had sleep-fallen out of his chair and was now sprawled almost comically on the floor. The patriarch's eyes met Shawn's, and the boy could see clear indecision there.

"Take them home, Mr. Matthews," Shawn said quietly. "Book a hotel somewhere; I think there's a Millennium a couple blocks away. Eric and I will stay here for the night. It's not like he's in any mood to change, erm…. beds anyway." He cast an amused smile in Eric's direction, who by now was snoring with a slight bit of drool onto the carpet.

Alan gingerly stood, before clapping Shawn on the shoulder. "Good man," he said quietly. He lifted his wife and baby up in his arms, while the doctor carried Morgan. As soon as the double doors closed behind them, Shawn glanced back at the digital clock, watching the minutes tick by until a new day arrived. As it struck midnight and rang in December 8th, Shawn felt his eyes grow heavy. He leaned back in his chair and let sleep claim him, the tolls of a clock tower in the distance still ringing in his ears.

* * *

"Shawn. Shawn, wake up."

Shawn heard the strange voice invade his dream of him and Angela, alone on a beach somewhere. He tried to shrug it off and focus on his girlfriend, but the voice was persistent.

"Dang it, Shawn, wake up!"

Shawn now let himself be shaken back into the conscious world, his first thought being that it was Cory's voice calling to him.

"Wha- What is it?" he yawned, tumbling off of something and onto hard carpet. He took in his surroundings, not sure where he was. His bleary eyes found the clock on the wall – did it read 6:10 AM? And what was Eric doing on the floor next to him?

Then he remembered. He was still in the hospital.

"Shawn, come on!" He felt his best friend pulling him to his feet and dragging him along.

"What's wrong?" Shawn asked, still a little sleepily. He finally got his eyes adjusted as Cory led him out of the waiting room and into the hallway beyond that led to the maternity ward. "Is Topanga all right?"

"Yes."

"And the baby?"

"She's alive. And she's beautiful."

Shawn stopped dead in his tracks. He finally got a good look at his best friend for the first time in more than twelve hours.

Cory looked like he hadn't slept a single one of them. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath. Tears could also be seen, as Cory let a grin come across his face.

"Shawny, I'm a dad!"

Shawn grinned in return and clapped Cory on the back. "Congrats, man. Happy for you."

Cory grinned even wider at Shawn's approval. "You wanna see them?"

"Wait, what about Eric?"

"We'll get him in a minute. He's not going anywhere; poor bastard could sleep through a train wreck."

The best friends kept walking down the long hallway; its bright lights no longer blinded Shawn. As they went along, Shawn updated Cory on his family's arrival and later how he had sent them to a hotel. Cory seemed appreciative. They finally reached a room near the end of the hall. Cory gave a tentative knock and peeked his head in.

"Hey, you two. I brought a visitor." Shawn peered over Cory's shoulder.

Topanga lay propped up against the pillows, a pink bundle in her arms. Her eyes tore away from the graying light outside her window to stare at the two men and she gave a soft smile. Now seeing for himself that she was all right, Shawn cracked a smirk.

"Mrs. Cory, what the hell are you still doing up?" he joked. Topanga just rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Shawn, Cory and I just had a baby. Do you honestly expect us to be asleep right now?"

"Well, I was. I slept in a locked waiting room all night, along with your brother-in-law."

"Lucky you," Topanga retorted sarcastically, and Cory laughed as the boys now entered. Shawn stared at the little baby, which he could just make out amongst the blankets, in wonder. From what he could observe, she had Topanga's hair, but seemed to be Cory in many other places. He couldn't believe it. He was looking at his best friend's baby….

 _You are not going to cry, Hunter. You are not going to cry…._

"Shawn?" Topanga's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he cleared his throat.

"Hmmm?"

"Would you like to hold her? Cory and I already have." She smiled sweetly at him and held out the bundle. At this gesture, Shawn froze.

"I can't," he excused weakly. He remembered the first time he'd held little Josh, just after the Matthews had brought the recovered baby home from the hospital; he'd almost dropped the little guy.

"Yes, you can," Topanga encouraged, and before Shawn could object, she was pressing the bundle into his arms. Shawn stared at the little infant, and amazingly she looked up at him with big eyes. Topanga's eyes….

He felt his throat tighten again. "What….what's her name?"

"Riley," he heard Topanga answer.

 _Beautiful_ , Shawn thought. It was perfect. He looked up at Cory, who was now seated on the windowsill, arms folded, watching the adorable sight.

"Shawn," Cory said gently. "Topanga and I want to ask you something…. Would you do us the honor of being Riley's godfather?"

Shawn looked back and forth between his best friends in astonishment. What had they been drinking? He wasn't exactly on stable footing financially; he was still trying to hit his stride after graduation. Hell, he had never been on stable footing on anything in his life, except maybe with Angela. If anything happened to Cory and Topanga…. did they really want their daughter in the care of a man still somewhat lost in life?

But, as he looked into their searching eyes, Shawn knew why they had chosen him. He was loyal to them, had supported them when others hadn't. Even in the worst moments of their childhood, Shawn had always been the glue that held him, Cory and Topanga together. And, he now realized that they needed him to be that glue again.

"I will," he got out, only now letting the tears show. "I'd… I'd be honored."

Cory and Topanga's eyes were as wet as his, even as they had beaming smiles on their faces. Shawn spent the next half an hour holding and rocking little Riley.

* * *

New York City. December 8th, 2001. 8:55 AM. Shawn leaned against the windowsill in the hospital room, glancing up from his writing.

Topanga was passed out in the bed; Cory in the rocking chair in the corner; little Riley in her bassinet at the foot of the bed. The family had fallen asleep soon after the baby had begun to tire of Shawn holding her. Shawn had stayed awake, left to his own thoughts. As his mind replayed over everything that had happened in the last day, he became more and more unsure of himself. Glancing around the room, he had wondered: did he really belong here? Cory and Topanga had a family of their own now, not to mention the rest of their relatives who would no doubt want to see the baby soon. Did he really want to be a tag-along, the adopted "Uncle Shawn" whom everyone else included in the fold out of sympathy? Besides, what kind of a role model would he be to Riley as she grew? Would she look at him and see a man ungrounded, and thus automatically compare him to her very grounded, and very successful parents?

No. All his life, everything he had touched had been ruined somehow. He didn't want to ruin this. Not for his family – even if they were some of the only decent family he had ever known.

Shawn now laid the envelope on Topanga's bedside table. His hand brushed back the hair from out of her eyes. He dared to stand over the bassinet, and plant a soft kiss on his goddaughter's forehead. _I'll see you soon, kid. I promise._ He now paused at the door, debating whether to leave behind a goodbye gesture for Cory. Seeing his best friend sleeping there, though, he knew he just couldn't do it without coming apart. So instead, he simply said, "I'm so sorry, Cory." He swept out the door, out of the hallway, out of the waiting room (he barely noted that someone had moved an amazingly still-sleeping Eric onto a couch), out of the hospital, down the street and to the nearest subway station. Not once did he look back.

He didn't know it even himself then, but he would not see his best friends again for a very long time.

* * *

Cory looked up from the letter Shawn had left behind, stricken. His eyes were watery.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye to him…"

He and Topanga and Riley were still in their hospital room, only this time surrounded by the rest of the Matthews clan that included a very well rested Eric.

Topanga rubbed her husband's shoulder soothingly.

"He said it himself there, Cory. He has to find his way… and he doesn't want to drag us down while he does."

"How could he think that?!" Cory exploded. "How, Topanga?"

"More importantly, how could he abandon his position as godfather?" Eric pointed out. "This is why you should have made me Riley's guardian, Cory… just like you should have named me Best Man for your wedding."

"Eric, shut up!" Alan snapped, turning to his son with exasperation in his voice. "Shawn isn't abandoning Riley – he said as much in the letter. You're already the baby's uncle by blood; isn't that enough? Besides, you should be darn grateful that Shawn actually thought to request that _you_ be named godfather for the next child!"

Amy held court at the front of the room. "Let's just keep this in perspective. It's not like we have completely lost contact with Shawn. We have his number and his email. Right now, let's give him the time and the space he needs to grow. If I know that boy – and I know him like he's one of my own – he will do what he needs to do. He'll find himself, and then he'll find his way back to Riley and to us. All we need to do now is let him know that he still has a family here as long as he needs one."

Everyone else nodded in agreement, ready to prepare for the next stage in each of their lives' journeys.


End file.
